


Seventeen Days

by fictionallemons



Series: Two spies in love [2]
Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Benji bottoms, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Ethan tops, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hurt Ethan, Kidnapping, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mission Fic, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Mission: Impossible - Rogue Nation (2015), the tags are kind of spoilery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:04:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 15,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictionallemons/pseuds/fictionallemons
Summary: Benji and Ethan deal with balancing their new relationship and work.





	1. Coffee breath

Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since Benji had last seen Ethan Hunt. Seventeen days ago they’d kissed each other goodbye with coffee breath and embarrassingly twinkly eyes and still-a-little-shy smiles after spending the previous ten days mostly holed up in Benji’s tiny D.C. apartment finding out every single way they could make each other come. 

But the honeymoon, such as it was, had to end sometime, and they’d been called back to the office two days before the official end of their furlough. They’d talked a bit about how they were going to handle their newfound couple status at work, and decided that the fact that they were shagging was on a need-to-know basis. The fact that they were in love would be harder to hide, because Benji felt like his emotions were written plain as day on his own homely mug every time he looked at Ethan’s proud, capable face. But maybe that had always been true. Maybe everyone at IMF had known that he was in love with his team leader before he did. Or maybe they just chalked it up to hero worship and moved on with their lives.

Benji didn’t care. As much as he loved his job, he’d give it up in a second if he had to. What he couldn’t give up was Ethan. He was beginning to need Ethan with an intensity that scared him. The trouble was, Ethan seemed to need him right back. He showed it in the way he trailed kisses over Benji’s neck, soft and sweet, and clung to him in the night, as if together they could keep the nightmares at bay. He showed it in the way he teased and he tested, bringing Benji to the brink of his physical limits, and carefully pushing him over the edge into blissful oblivion. It was the way he whispered “love you” before they drifted off to sleep, so soft Benji sometimes wasn’t sure if he’d only imagined it. Ethan Hunt appeared to be fearless in all things. And he wasn’t shy about the way he felt about Benji, not since they’d declared their feelings for each other over tapas and Tempranillo what felt like a lifetime ago. But he wasn’t in control all the time, Benji discovered. Sometimes Ethan was downright hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure he could ask Benji for everything he wanted him to give him. And that made Benji want to give him everything, all at once, without Ethan even having to ask.

So it was bittersweet when they said goodbye that morning. Ethan had a meeting with Hunley, and Benji had a briefing with the guys and gals in R&D to test out some new gear and gadgets.

“Dinner later?” Ethan had suggested, as if they were just going to another day at the office.

“Sure.” Benji replied. They could do this. They could be a relationship and still do what they did. Ethan Hunt could do anything. And when Benji was with him, he felt he could do anything, too. “Meet me at Jaleo at 7:30.”

“See you there.” And then Ethan had smiled, that lazy Ethan smile that lit up his entire face, that had the breath stopping in Benji’s lungs and his heart beating double time. And Benji had had to kiss him. Coffee breath and all.  
Seventeen days ago.


	2. Be careful

Ethan didn’t make it to Jaleo. To be fair, Benji didn’t, either. He’d gotten word from Brandt at five pm that he and Ethan were being dispatched immediately to Cairo. There were loose ends from the smuggling case and they had to be taken care of a tight timetable. 

“That was my case, too. Mine and Ethan’s,” Benji reminded Brandt.

“Yeah, but you’re needed here,” Brandt said. Was he being evasive or was it Benji’s imagination?

“Whatever.” It wasn’t like he and Ethan hadn’t been split up on other missions since London. But the timing was suspicious. And he wanted to hear from Ethan that Benji was legitimately not needed for this mission.

His call to Ethan went to voicemail and he tamped down his rising sense of unease. He hadn’t imagined the last two weeks, had he? He and Ethan—they were a team in more ways than one, now. Weren’t they? His innate insecurities were operating on overdrive by the time Ethan’s text came close to seven that night.

_Sorry, Benji. I can’t explain right now but I’ll explain everything when I get back._

Benji stuck his tongue out at his phone. Great. _And when will that be?_ Okay, maybe he sounded a little pissy, but he didn’t like being out of the loop.

_Two days, tops._

Benji waited as long as he could stand before texting back. _Be careful._

_Of course._

_For me._

_For you. Always._

He agonized over the next text. They’d said it, but writing it down on a text seemed extra serious. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, and then he waited as the ellipses came on screen.

_I love you._

Trust Ethan to beat him to the punch and be brave enough to say it.

He didn’t hesitate before writing back this time _. I love you, too._

_In two days I’m going to do so many dirty things to you._

Benji laughed. As annoyed as he was to be left home, he supposed he and Ethan could use the break from one another to stoke their passion and save up some of their sexual energy. He planned to spend much of the next two days thinking of inventive ways to make Ethan’s eyes glaze over with want.

_I’m counting on it._

Neither of them had counted on what happened next.


	3. Refrigerator sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji flashes back to some hot kitchen sex, and gets some bad news.

A few months earlier, Benji had helped the IMF computer geeks, with whom he still identified, even if he’d graduated to field work, design the bare bones of the holy grail of hackers everywhere—a computer code that could infiltrate any computer security system anywhere in the world. It was the stuff of movies and cheap spy novels, but Benji had had an epiphany one day while noodling around the back end of the IMF’s servers, which he did sometimes just to see how far he could get inside. He’d taken his germ of an idea to his favorite tech, Aarti, and she’d run with it, creating code that would take a more direct route to breaking into a system by posing as an innocuous bug sweeping program. It was the face mask version of hacking—gaining access by pretending to be something the system trusted. Who knew if it would work, but Aarti had asked him to come to the lab to do some tests and refinements to see if they could get it out of the realm of the theoretical.

Each day Benji went to the lab and worked, and each night, Ethan managed to send at least one text reassuring him that everything was going to plan and he’d be home soon.

Benji drank up the texts. He needed the reassurance that what they had wouldn’t evaporate when real life rained down on them. He missed Ethan, the confidence that being around someone as larger than life as Ethan gave him. And he missed the easy affection that had grown up between them in the scant weeks since they’d begun their affair.

The third night alone in his bed, Benji had lain awake, restless, wondering if this was actually their bed now. He had no idea where Ethan even lived. Ethan had never mentioned, and even though Benji’s apartment was barely bigger than a shoe box, Ethan didn’t seem to mind the close quarters. Since they’d now made love on almost every surface, including the bed, the floor next to the bed, the armchair that Benji had in lieu of a couch, against the wall of the shower, and once, against the refrigerator door, Benji’s feelings for his apartment had warmed somewhat as well.  
He palmed himself through his pajama bottoms, thinking about that last, memorable time. It had been late morning, and they’d been making bowls of cereal, arguing good-naturedly about the fact that Benji didn’t have a coffeemaker.

“We’re going to get one today,” Ethan said. “You know I need my coffee.”

“We don’t need one. I'll just go down to the bodega.”

“Running down to the bodega isn’t always convenient. Case in point.” Ethan gestured between them. He was wearing a pair of gray boxer briefs and Benji was wearing Captain America novelty boxers. Morning stubble graced both of their faces. They’d stayed up late talking, laughing, and making love slowly, then slept until almost noon.

“I’ll get dressed and get your damn coffee.” Benji grumbled, but not too hard, because, damn it, he needed a shot of caffeine as much as Ethan did.

“Although, there are other ways of waking up,” Ethan mused.

“Such as?”

In one swift, graceful move, Ethan crowded Benji against the refrigerator door, then dropped to his knees, his face eye level with the bulge in Benji’s boxers. Ethan glanced up and the sight of him looking up through long, dark lashes, his beautiful mouth an inch from where Benji wanted to feel it most, sent a surge of blood to Benji’s groin.

“Ethan.” Benji groaned as Ethan started nuzzling his thickening flesh through the layer of cotton. “We’re filthy; we haven’t showered since last night.”

“I like you filthy,” Ethan growled, then he pulled the waistband of the boxers down, and Benji’s cock sprang free, bobbing hopefully in front of Ethan’s face. No one was disappointed when Ethan pulled the entire length into his mouth, sucking him all the way down, firmly and with purpose. Even though Benji had come more times in the last few days than he had in the preceding year combined, he still felt like he was brought to the edge embarrassingly quickly. There was something incredibly erotic about having Ethan Hunt, a man he admired and respected, the man he would gladly die for, the man he loved more than anyone he’d ever loved before, on his knees, his mouth stuffed full of Benji’s cock, loving it, ready to swallow every drop of Benji’s come. It was the stuff of Benji’s wildest fantasies. That it was really happening had Benji whining in pleasure, ready to shoot his come down the throat of his mentor, lover, soul mate.

He felt the cold plastic of the refrigerator door against his back as he arched into Ethan’s mouth. His hands found their home buried in Ethan’s always slightly-too-long dark hair. He tugged a little, and Ethan hummed around Benji’s cock in approval. Benji was dimly aware that Ethan had pulled his own cock free and was stroking himself in time with his sucks.

“Fuck, Ethan, baby—“ Benji couldn’t get out more than broken syllables as his orgasm overtook him, and he felt the streams of come emptying into Ethan’s throat. Ethan swallowed, letting Benji’s cock slip out of his mouth slowly. Benji’s legs gave out, and he slid down the fridge door to a puddle on the kitchen floor. Which gave him a front row seat to Ethan’s hard, pulsing erection. He was suddenly overcome with need to taste it for himself, and he launched himself onto Ethan, swallowing down his rock hard, reddened cock. Ethan shouted and Benji felt spurts of come fill his throat almost immediately. He swallowed as best he could, as Ethan’s orgasm went on and on. Some of the come dripped out of his mouth and down his chin, and as Ethan’s thrusts stopped, Benji let him pull out rather reluctantly. He hadn’t had enough time to truly return the favor, but he knew he’d have another chance. Ethan kissed him messily, licking the rest of his come off Benji’s chin, and despite having just come, Benji felt a surge of lust at the sheer dirty hotness of that. They broke apart, breathing hard.

“So, awake now?” Ethan croaked.

Benji glanced down at them, naked and tangled on the scuffed gray linoleum kitchen floor, underwear bunched in the corner, sweat and come making them glisten in the fluorescent lighting, both of them badly in need of a shave and a wash, and burst into laughter.

“Yeah, I’m awake,” he said. “Unless that was the best fucking dream I’ve ever had.”

“It wasn’t a dream,” Ethan whispered. “It was real. It is real.”

Benji smiled at him. “It’s real,” he repeated, because he knew that Ethan needed the reassurance as much as Benji did.

When they kissed, it was soft and slow, and their own flavors mingled on their tongues.

“Okay, after shower, we’re going to the bodega. And then--” Benji paused as Ethan raised his eyebrows “--we’ll go get a coffeemaker.”

“Deal.”

Benji was pulled out of his reminiscence when his phone buzzed. Hopeful for another text from Ethan, even though it was the middle of the night in Egypt, he grabbed the device. It wasn’t Ethan. It was a phone call from Hunley.

“Dunn,” he answered the phone, adrenaline already rising.

“Benji, we have a problem.” Hunley’s voice was even more hoarse than normal.

“Is it Ethan?” Benji felt like he already knew the answer before it came.

“He’s been kidnapped.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to make a note here for people who have read this far...I have never written anything this episodic before, and I'm totally just making stuff up as I go. Hopefully, it's entertaining, but no promises as to the consistency of the chapters. I'm just having fun spending time with these two dorks. Thanks for reading!


	4. Good luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji finds out more about Ethan's situation.

Benji met Hunley and Jane at the airport. Hunley handed them each an unmarked black bag, shook their hands, and offered a grim “Good luck.”

“That’s it?” Benji wanted to know why a kidnapped Ethan Hunt didn’t merit Hunley’s official presence. Not that he trusted the man particularly, but he seemed to know more about what was going on than anyone else.

“What we know so far is on a stick in your bag. You can familiarize yourself with the details on the plane. Brandt will meet you in Damascus and catch you up on any developments.”

“Will wasn’t kidnapped, just Ethan? And Damascus? I thought they were in Cairo.”

“Just get on the plane, Benji,” Jane said, her hand on his arm. “Let’s go.”

Benji glared at Hunley. If anything happened to Ethan, he intended to hold Hunley and anyone else who was even tangentially involved personally responsible. But he allowed Jane to guide him onto the plane. Blind rage wouldn’t help, especially when they had a nine-hour flight ahead of them.

Thank God for Jane’s steadying presence. She got them settled in the uncomfortable jump seats of the military cargo plane, the first and fastest way to get where they were going. When Benji nearly tore the bag containing clothes, cash, and false identities apart looking for the data stick, Jane calmly took the bag away from him, slid the stick out of the side pocket and set up the pad with Bluetooth headphones so they could both hear at the same time.

Will’s voice, gravelly as if he was operating on little sleep, started without preamble.

“Three days ago, IMF received intelligence that the remnants of the smuggling ring that Agents Dunn and Hunt had dismantled and exposed to local authorities had regrouped and was attempting to broker a sale of weapons to a known terrorist organization. Specifically, the brother of one of the smugglers who was killed in Turkey during the operation was trying to pick up where his brother and the group left off, and had made threats against the “unknown thug” who had killed his brother.”

Benji’s mind raced. The man he’d killed in the alley the night…the night he and Ethan had first touched. Kissed. Been together. 

“…Agent Hunt decided since he had first-hand knowledge of the situation, he should go and intercept the weapons sale and attempt to bring in the brother, whose name was Irfan Sen. He chose me to accompany him, and we left for what we believed to be a short mission, as the smuggling ring was known to have few resources left after Agent Dunn’s and Hunt’s previous mission. When we arrived in Cairo, we realized that Sen was more preoccupied with revenge than with weapons sales. He used the sale as bait to lure Ethan to a deserted warehouse. I was waiting as backup. Our mission was to disrupt the sale with an explosive diversionary tactic and then apprehend Sen, leaving the rest of the gang to the local authorities. However, Sen was more concerned with nabbing Ethan. He had him surrounded and subdued before I could get close enough to take any of them out.”

Benji continued to listen as Brandt described his efforts to liberate Ethan before he was trundled into an unmarked van, apparently alive, and driven to a local airfield. Brandt’s voice grew more gravelly as the tale went on. It was clear from his tone that he blamed himself for Ethan’s being taken. But Benji knew the truth. It wasn’t Will’s fault. It was Benji’s. Benji had killed the man in Turkey. His brother wanted revenge against him, not Ethan. And Ethan had known that Benji would be at risk if he’d gone to Cairo, which is why he’d chosen Will as his partner. He’d known that there was personal danger to Benji if Sen ever knew who really killed his brother. And Ethan was trying to protect Benji by sending himself in his place.

“…tracked them as far as Damascus, where Sen has a hideout. We’re staking out our options, but we need more men on the ground. Luther’s coming in from Moscow. With Benji and Jane we should be able to beat these guys on their own turf and get Ethan back.”

Benji checked out as Brandt reeled off locations and details. Jane would remember them. He was stuck on the fact that Ethan had taken him out of the line of fire, had sacrificed himself, and hadn’t said a word about it to Benji. He hadn’t given him a choice. Hadn’t let him make his own decisions. He was trying to protect him. But Benji was so mad he almost forgot to be terrified that something horrible might happen to Ethan. Might be happening to him right this second.

“Benji?” Jane’s voice broke into his thoughts. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. We’re going to get him back.”

“Yeah.” Benji said distantly, because he knew that’s what she wanted to hear. “We are.”

Benji was not going to stop until he had Ethan right in front of him, whole and in the flesh. And then he was going to give him a piece of his mind.


	5. Lucky penny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the trail of Ethan.

If Jane sensed something was off with Benji, she didn’t say anything. She calmly went over the plan. She was a professional and Benji found her straightforward confidence reassuring. There wasn’t anything that Ethan couldn’t survive, and there wasn’t anything that Will, Jane, Luther, and Benji wouldn’t do to rescue him, so between them all, they had a better than average shot of getting him free.

Benji just had to keep focused. He had to do his job, he had to be on his game, and he had to forget that losing Ethan now meant more than losing a friend, a mentor, and an unparalleled IMF agent. It mean losing a piece of himself. It meant heartbreak. He felt that particular part of him turn cold the closer they got to the landing field in Damascus. He needed to turn off his emotions and keep a level head.

If he could do this, if he could get through until he had—until _they_ had Ethan back—then he promised himself he could have a good old fashioned meltdown, in private. And he’d take stock then if he’d be able to keep this up--being an IMF field agent who was irrevocably in love with another one. Could they really keep up their line of work and still be together? 

A question for another day, Benji told himself as the plane skittered to a stop on the runway.

They lost no time once their boots were on the ground. Luther had already arrived and was strategizing with Will when Benji and Jane joined them at the safe house. Will looked terrible—with bags under his eyes the size of coin purses. Benji knew how he felt. He hadn’t slept at all on the flight, despite a bone-deep weariness that had him jonesing for very strong coffee. Not that his jittery nerves needed more stimulation. He ignored Will’s penetrating glances—he had no idea how much Brandt knew about he and Ethan, and he decided it didn’t matter. Their objective was to rescue Ethan. Everything else was irrelevant.

Their plan was simple and direct. Benji trusted this team with his life. He had to trust them with Ethan’s life, too. But when they went into motion, everything unraveled.

“Fuck!” Will seethed some hours later, once it became clear that Ethan had already been moved. “We’re too late.”

“Look,” Jane said, indicating a fresh patch of blood on the warehouse’s dirty floor. “Blood, but not too much.”

“He’s either injured, or he’s injured someone else, which means he’s in fighting shape,” Luther commented laconically.

Benji tamped down his worry, and took a deep breath in through his nose to stem his nausea at the sight of potentially Ethan’s blood. He thought he saw a glint of metal and he bent down to have a closer look. He carefully extracted the shiny American penny, tails side up, from a groove on the floor.

“It’s a message from Ethan,” Benji declared, after considering the implications. “He’s alive. And he’s given us a clue about where to find him.”


	6. Lincoln Memorial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji finds a clue. Plus flashback to making out with Ethan!

_“He’s alive. And he’s given us a clue about where to find him.”_

“Where? The Lincoln Memorial?” Will scoffed, referring to the building etched onto the back of the penny.

“Not exactly.” Benji silently made the connections in his head while the team waited, watching him. The tension was palpable, but he needed to think, to make sure he was getting this right.

Not more than a week ago, he and Ethan had made a rare trip out of his apartment during what Benji had jokingly referred to as their “sex holiday.” They’d gone for Chinese at Benji’s favorite restaurant in D.C., then walked home, talking, laughing. Somehow they’d found themselves at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial. It was late, dark, and not many tourists were checking out one of the most famous landmarks in D.C. Benji had made a joke about having had a lifelong dream to make out on the memorial’s broad white marble steps. 

He’d been teasing, wanting to see how Ethan would react to a very public display of affection. They mostly kept their hands to themselves when out in public, and Benji didn’t mind. But Ethan also looked awfully good by moonlight and the glow of the floodlights that lit Mr. Lincoln up all night long. But Ethan hadn’t hesitated. He was all in. He’d told Benji a dozen times, but Benji still had a hard time believing that all of this was for real, that someone like Ethan could really feel the things he said he was feeling for someone like Benji. Not to sell himself short, but, objectively, they weren’t in the same league at all.

“Your wish is my command,” Ethan had murmured, and yanked Benji toward the steps, pulling him down after him, so they were hip to hip, jeans rubbing together. Ethan’s hand found the back of Benji’s neck and he slowly brought their mouths close. They kissed, long, hard. Benji ignored his instant erection and focused instead on the perfection that was kissing Ethan, tasting his salty sweet mouth, licking his plush bottom lip, feeling the hum and rumble coming from Ethan’s chest vibrate through his own body, permeating his very soul.

They stayed like that for a long while, taking sips of each other, until a group of rowdy teenagers stumbled up, breaking the midnight hush. Ethan pulled away slowly, heedless of any audience they might have, but Benji had had enough of the public display of affection. He wanted to move somewhere private so they could finish what they’d started. 

He grabbed Ethan’s hand and started running toward Constitution Ave. They could get a cab there and be home in five minutes. Ethan easily kept up with him, and they kept their hands linked. Benji had never known how free he could feel, running through the night, linked to someone else. By the time they reached Constitution, Benji was breathless and grinning like a maniac. He scanned the traffic, looking for a free cab.

“You know what one of my life-long dreams is?” Ethan said. The bugger didn’t even sound winded.

“What? Fuck, no cabs.”

“To make out at the top of the Washington Monument.”

“I don’t think they let people up there any—“ Benji caught sight of Ethan’s face. “You’re taking the piss.”

“Little bit.”

“Not that you couldn’t get us up there,” Benji decided.

“All I’d need is some bungee cord and night vision goggles.” Ethan’s deadpan had Benji giggling.

“Taxi!” Benji flagged one down and they climbed in, giving the address of the bodega a block away from Benji’s apartment as a routine safety measure.

“But actually, I was thinking...as long as we're talking about dreams...I'd love to take you to Barcelona. It’s a beautiful city. I was there for work once. But I’d love go there—with you.” Benji had gotten pretty good at reading Ethan, and he could tell that he was serious now. “You ever been?”

“No.” Benji stared at Ethan’s profile, strong, beautiful, as the streetlights and traffic lights made patterns across his face. His breath caught and he couldn’t help himself. He leaned over and pressed his lips briefly to Ethan’s, then fell back to the other side of the cab. He was embarrassed. He could have waited three minutes until they were alone. But Ethan didn’t seem to mind. He turned to Benji and blinded him with one of his brilliant smiles.

“We’ll go there, someday,” Ethan went on. “We’ll drink wine and listen to Spanish guitar and we’ll have adventures and—“

The cab stopped. Benji passed a bill to the driver and followed Ethan out onto the sidewalk.

“I love you,” he said, once the cab had pulled away and they were alone on the street outside the bodega. “I love you, Ethan.” Just like that kiss in the cab, he couldn’t wait another second. Something about having two pounds of Semtex strapped to you while staring into the eyes of the person you wanted and thought you could never have, both of your lives in the balance, had taught Benji that waiting was overrated.

“I love you, too,” Ethan had said. And Benji had felt in that moment a perfect kind of happiness.

***

“Barcelona,” Benji said with much more decisiveness than he felt. “Ethan must have learned where they were taking him next, because he’s telling us we need to go to Barcelona.”

“And you’re getting all that from a penny that could have been dropped by anyone?” Jane asked, eyebrows lifted.

It was either Barcelona or the Washington Monument, and Benji couldn’t imagine a third-rate arms dealer being able to smuggle a kidnapped IMF agent into the nation’s capital.

“Yeah,” Benji said. “I am. Now let’s go get Ethan.”


	7. Believe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji wishes things were different.

It took a day to regroup and get to Barcelona. Once they were there, they got a tip that took them to the outskirts of city. Sen had been seen there; Ethan had not. But Benji was certain they were on the right track. Ethan had been gone for almost four days. He knew that each hour that passed, their odds of finding Ethan alive diminished. He also knew that Ethan had more tricks up his sleeve than a Las Vegas magician. He could already have escaped and been working on making his way back to the team. Back to Benji.

That slender hope kept Benji going, kept him pushing the team forward, until they decided to pick up Sen and force him to reveal Ethan’s location. Benji was adamant that they interrogate Sen directly. If this was a revenge mission, then he could always trade himself for Ethan, if it came to that. It was he who was responsible for Sen’s brother’s death, even if Sen didn’t know it.

But their best laid plans were frustrated yet again. Sen boarded a train south before they were able to intercept him, and the team spent two more frustrating days trailing him before running him to ground in Gibraltar. Benji barely slept during this time, certain that if they let their guard down for one minute, Ethan would be at the mercy of his captors. They had to keep the heat on Sen, and make Ethan more valuable alive than dead. 

Their last known communication from Ethan was that almost-missed clue of the penny. As Luther outfitted Jane all with a new comm for their next attempt to bring in Sen, Will pulled Benji to the side and clapped him on the shoulders.

“We’ll get him this time, Benj, and we’ll have Ethan back before you know it.” Will looked worn and tired, but he’d been unfailingly optimistic, reminding them all about the scrapes Ethan had gotten out of in the past.

“Thanks.” Benji had wondered just how much Will knew about his relationship with Ethan. He seemed to be treating Benji with a little more special care than he might have in the past. Ethan was important to all of them, but Benji had been the engine driving the rescue operation since the moment he’d landed in Damascus. He wished he were cleverer, quicker--maybe if he were they’d already have Ethan back.

As if reading his mind, Will said quickly, “Hey, if it weren’t for you, we would have lost the trail in Damascus. We’ve got eyes on Sen thanks to you.” Benji nodded in acknowledgment. “Hey, I never heard how you got Barcelona from a penny. Some kind of code?”

“Something like that. An inside joke, I guess,” Benji said hollowly. He hadn’t been able to come up with a lie to explain the connection between a penny and Barcelona, so he’d avoided the topic. He’d been musing in quiet moments about the fact that he was the only one who’d make that connection, and so Ethan had had to know—or had to hope—that Benji himself was on his trail.

He realized that even though their romantic relationship was only a few weeks old, he and Ethan had known each other for a long time. They knew how the other thought, what they would and wouldn’t do for one another. Ethan had to know there wasn’t anything that Benji wouldn’t do to keep him safe. And Benji knew the reverse was true as well. If each of them were willing to die for the other, how could they trust each other to let the other make their own decisions about the risks they were willing to take? Ethan had so far proven untrustworthy in this area, putting himself at risk to keep Benji out of the line of fire. He’d done it more than once. Benji hated him for it. And loved him for it. And he wished, not for the first time, that they could escape all this life and death stuff for a while and just be together, arguing over coffee makers and where to order take out from, instead of killing thugs in alleys and getting kidnapped off to god knows where. 

But then, if Ethan were something normal, like an accountant or a tire salesman, and Benji were a coder at an internet company, then they really wouldn’t be themselves, would they? They probably would never have met. Never have worked together. Never became friends. Never fallen in love. And that is the one outcome that Benji wouldn’t trade for anything, even safety. Because loving Ethan Hunt and being loved by him in return was the most dangerous, most inspiring, most unforgettable feeling in the world. And Benji had to believe that they were going to have more time together. More time to dismantle bombs and break in to top-secret weapons facilities and to impersonate high-ranking officials. More time to kiss, make love, read the paper naked in bed on a Sunday morning.

He took a deep breath, checked his gun and his comm. He believed.


	8. Empty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things don't look good.

Six hours later, Sen was rather anti-climactically captured. As they pursued from a car, he’d crashed his motorcycle and for one heart-stopping moment, Benji worried that he was dead before he could reveal Ethan’s whereabouts. But the smuggler was simply unconscious, and they had no trouble bundling him into their vehicle and out of town before any of his confederates could try to come to his aid.

“Let me take the lead, okay,” Jane had suggested. Since she spoke fluent Turkish, among a few other languages, the others agreed.

Benji paced while Jane began softly questioning the still-coming-around prisoner. He tried not to think of all the ways this could still go wrong.

He heard Jane raise her voice and heard the man’s voice respond over and over again with the same phrase.

“What? What’s he saying?” he crossed the room in several strides and peered down at the battered thug, who looked barely old enough to drive, let alone apprehend a skilled agent like Ethan Hunt. Maybe he’d gotten lucky.

“He says Ethan escaped en route to Barcelona. He says he doesn’t know where he is.”

Benji knew Sen could have been lying, but something told him he wasn’t. He should have been relieved that Ethan had gotten away, but he only felt frustrated that the trail was growing cold yet again.

“Bullshit,” Benji said with barely controlled fury. “Why go to the trouble of kidnapping him at all?” If Ethan had gotten away from Sen days ago, then why hadn’t he made contact? If he’d led them to Barcelona, why hadn’t he tried to meet up with them there? Something was wrong and Sen was currently the only hope they had.

Jane spoke again to the man, her voice growing increasingly menacing. Benji would have been shrinking into a tiny ball if she’d directed that voice at him, and Sen wasn’t holding up much better. He managed to stutter out a few words.

“He says he wanted to kill him—but he wanted revenge for his brother, and a simple killing wouldn’t do.”

Benji swallowed. There he was again, back to the entire reason for this debacle. Sen continued to speak in broken phrases. Jane translated. “But then he realized that Ethan was not the one who killed his brother. One of his brother’s friends had witnessed the killing, but had been too far away to do anything. The man who murdered his brother had… red hair.”

Jane glanced at Benji. Without looking, Benji knew Will and Luther were staring at him, too. Sen seemed to notice him for the first time, quiet in the corner. When he registered the scene before him, he started struggling against his bonds and yelling, spitting epithets at Benji, who simply stood his ground. He didn’t consider himself a particularly brave man, but he didn’t have to apologize for what had happened to his brother. Criminals, agents. Sometimes there was collateral damage. He didn’t like it, but Benji knew what his job entailed. Death was part and parcel. He’d make his peace with it one day. Or not. Today was not that day.

Jane went on, translating as Sen continued. It was as if he was resigned to his fate and he couldn’t stop himself. Or maybe he loquaciousness had to do with the truth serum they’d plied him with when they first brought him in. 

“He was going to dispose of Ethan, but he thought they could use him as bait to get the real killer,” Jane refrained from looking at Benji that time, but the cat was rather out of the bag at this point, he thought. “Then he thought he’d actually killed him, back in Damascus.”

“The blood,” Will commented. That meant Ethan had been injured. He might have escaped, but he could yet have bled to death on the side of a highway somewhere, for all they knew.

“And then they got word of a deal they could get in on in Barcelona, so they headed west. Ethan was in the trunk of a town car. There was a road accident causing a delay in the Alps. He thinks that’s where Ethan escaped. But they didn’t find him missing until they’d gotten to the border of Italy and France. At that point, they decided to cut their losses and keep going to make the deal.”

The flow of words stopped. Sen refocused his attention on Benji.

Benji held his gaze, level and calm. Ethan still needed him. Sen had outlived his usefulness. But he needed to know.

“How was Ethan injured?”

Jane translated. Sen smirked at Benji and he decided he would be glad to hand him over to Interpol for his sure-to-be lengthy prison stay.

“He took a bullet,” Jane whispered. “To the torso.”

“Fuck.” Will said, then jumped into action. He got on his phone and started barking orders to IMF staff to check all hospitals within a hundred miles of Ethan’s last known location. But if he’d gotten free in the middle of the Italian Alps, Benji couldn’t imagine where he’d obtained medical care. At least it was summer, and the days were long, the nights not so cold.

Benji felt himself grow cold. This wasn’t good. Ethan could be anywhere. He could be in shock. He could be dead. 

Benji watched as if paralyzed as Luther logged onto his computer, starting to work his Luther magic. Jane continued to debrief Sen, but Benji didn’t hear. He was useless. He couldn’t save Ethan. He couldn’t help his friends save him. He was empty. Ethan was lost, and it was all Benji’s fault. Sen wanted Benji and Ethan had gone in his place. And there wasn’t anything Benji could do to go back and fix things.


	9. Square one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji tracks Ethan.

Benji didn’t know how much time passed while Jane continued her interrogation of Sen, Will attempted to marshal resources to go after Ethan, and Luther presumably worked on tapping into hospital and police records to try to get a lead on Ethan’s whereabouts. Normally Benji would be right there with them, doing his own computer recon, or brainstorming ideas of what to do next, but he seemed incapable of action. He fingered his cell phone, and couldn’t stop himself from unlocking it and looking at his last texts from Ethan—days ago, when they’d written those three words to each other. He wondered if that was all the evidence he’d ever have that Ethan Hunt loved him.

Wait. Ethan Hunt _loved_ him. And Benji was just standing around, feeling sorry for himself. He wasn’t giving up hope. And he wasn’t going to be an object of pity for Will and Jane and Luther, who clearly thought he’d gone off the deep end.

He slid his phone away, and immediately set into action. He checked his gear, and started loading up a bag with medical supplies, ammunition, food. When Will finished his conversation with a harsh, “Get it done,” he turned to Benji, who was checking the magazine on a nine-millimeter.

“Whatcha doing, Benj?” he asked, as if Benji were a skittish animal he didn’t want to spook.

“I’m going to Ethan’s last known location, and I’m going to walk every inch of the fucking Alps if I have to, but I’m going to find him.” Benji hoped his voice was calm and in control, because that was what he needed to project, even if it wasn’t what he felt. He couldn’t afford for his team to consider him a liability.

But Will’s face just flickered with a ghost of a smile. He said. “Okay. Jane, you take charge of conveying Sen to the authorities. Luther, you hold down the fort from here. And Benji—I’m coming with you.”

*

Six insanely frustrating days later, Benji was almost ready to give up. With absolute radio silence from Ethan, he and Will had been to every hospital, clinic, and safe house within fifty miles of Sen’s best guess of Ethan’s location. They’d verified the logging truck accident on the date Sen had been travelling with a wounded Ethan in his trunk. It had stopped traffic on the highway that wound its way through the Italian Alps to France. They extrapolated a starting point from there. It wasn’t a perfect guess, but it was the best data they had. And since no bodies matching Ethan’s description had shown up, either, Benji was determined to keep searching.

He and Will had spent most of the six days apart, covering more ground alone. Another IMF agent joined them from Rome, and they started moving even more quickly. But no one had seen anyone matching Ethan’s description, not with a bullet wound. It was as if he had just disappeared.

But that was impossible, Benji kept telling himself. And he’d started back from square one. He tried to think like Ethan Hunt—like Ethan Hunt with a bullet hole in his side, and no resources. But then again, IMF agents always had something to fall back on. Benji himself always carried an innocuous looking card in his wallet—one that could create an explosive charge when bent in a certain way. He was certain that even if Ethan had lost his gear, he’d have something useful on him.

But what? Benji looked around the tiny village he’d walked to from the highway that morning. It had taken him five hours on foot once he’d left the road, shouldering a pack with a day’s worth of necessities. If he weren’t on a frantic search for the love of his life, he’d have enjoyed the hike through the gorgeous, green hills. Here there were mostly gentle slopes, the more rugged peaks not far in the distance, adding drama to the landscape. And the village he’d come upon was a picture perfect European village that except for the occasional late-model car could have been an exact replica of something from the fifties. There was obviously no hospital, possibly not even a doctor. There was a post office, though. And signs in French and Italian. Benji had passable Italian, but his French was much better, so he started thinking about his cover story in French to prepare himself to learn what he could from the locals.

First stop, a pub-type establishment where he tucked into the daily special of osso bucco. He made small talk with the bartender/server and asked if there was anywhere in town he could put up for the night.

“Old Jean has a spare room he rents out from time to time,” the young woman said. “But…”

Benji waited. He was certain the osso bucco wouldn’t have tasted like dust if he’d been in a less worried frame of mind.

“I haven’t seen him around lately, actually. Perhaps he went to Aix. He has family there.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Benji said casually. “I can push on.” There was something making his ears itch. Something about the way the server was speaking, as if she was trying to make sense of Jean’s absence and coming up short. Something was off. “Where does his live, just on the off chance he might be in?”

The woman described the house with the green door on the last road in town. “Tell him Naomi sent you and he’ll put you up, if he’s there.”

Benji forced himself to take his time, to act as a road-weary hiker might, not in a special hurry to get anywhere. But when he was finally free from sight of the pub, he picked up his pace. He wouldn’t call Will yet, though he did check that he had adequate service should this hunch pan out. He found the house without difficulty, and he forced himself to keep breathing evenly. It looked locked up tight. No car in the tiny driveway, though it could have been hidden in the old barn-style garage behind the house. A lot could be hidden back there. Or in one of the second story rooms, with their tightly closed curtains. 

Nightfall was a couple of hours off, still. Benji was impatient, so he went with the direct route. He went up and knocked at the door, still playing the part of a traveler in need of respite.

No answer. Which didn’t mean anything. There were only a couple of other houses on the little street, and no activity. He walked around to the back. Bingo. The back door was standing open. No one who’d gone away for a holiday would have left it like that. He peered into the house through the gap formed by the open door and caught sight of a cluttered dining room table. One of the things on that table was a box of gauze. And beyond that, the smell emanating from the house was that of strong disinfectant, as though someone had been up to some home based medical care. That was good enough for Benji. He drew his gun, and led with it as he gingerly stepped over the threshold. He cleared the dining room, and thought he heard something from the right of the house. He swung his gun up and at a tiny, wrinkled old man. His hands were up, and his face was startled.

Benji tried to keep his voice level as he asked in a harshly whispered French, “Where is he?”

The man didn’t answer his question, but said, “Are you Benji?” Benji’s astonishment at hearing his own name must have registered on his face, because the man continued, “Oh, thank God you’ve come.”


	10. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally found.

Benji lowered his gun and the man started speaking in rapid fire French. He tried to follow along. Ethan was here. Upstairs. Something about a fever and delirium. Amnesia and sleep. He’d sort out the details later, but he first needed to see Ethan with his own eyes.

As they climbed the narrow staircase, for some reason Benji’s mind kept going back to the last morning before they’d left for IMF headquarters. The last time he’d seen Ethan. The last time he’d kissed him. Seventeen days had passed, most of them a hideous blur of worry, frustration, and fear. He could still taste the coffee on Ethan’s breath that morning, still feel the scrape of his not-quite clean shaven face on his own whiskery cheek.

When he saw the figure covered by a plain white sheet on the narrow twin bed, Benji let out a breath that felt like it had been inside him for those seventeen days. He didn’t think he was particularly successful at holding back the sob of relief that followed. 

Ethan lay still, sleeping. His face looked relaxed in sleep, not pinched in pain. He breathed evenly. He didn’t appear to need immediate medical attention, so Benji stopped to send a brief message to Will with their coordinates. He knew that Will and the rest of the team would be very nearly as relieved to have Ethan’s whereabouts known as Benji was.

Benji dropped to his knees beside Ethan’s still body. “How long—" Benji’s voice cracked embarrassingly, but the old man simply shuffled closer and put a hand on Benji’s shoulder. “—how long has been asleep?”

“Since after breakfast,” the man said. “He only woke up from his fever two days ago, and he couldn’t seem to remember anything. I only know your name because he said it in his sleep, over and over.”

“He did?” Benji felt the tips of his ears grow warm.

“I knew he was in trouble, that much was clear after he collapsed on my doorstep. He must have followed me from town. God knows how he knew I would be able to help—"

“He just knows things like that,” Benji murmured, his hand coming up to lightly stroke a lock of hair off Ethan’s forehead.

“It was like wartime again. I had enough equipment to clean his wound—it was a through and through—but there was material trapped inside. I was worried about infection, but his fever wasn’t systemic. I was able to get my hands on some antibiotics a few days ago, and he improved rapidly after that.”

“He looks—“ Benji had to clear his voice again “—better than I could have hoped. Thank you.”

“I was getting worried, though. I had no way of contacting anyone, and if his memory didn’t return…”

Benji frowned and looked down at Ethan’s face. He had no doubt it had cost Ethan dearly to drag himself to this town, to locate someone with skills that could help, to keep himself alive. They’d make sure he was stable, get him the best care, and he’d recover.

“Will you take him, now?” the man asked.

“Someone will come fetch us,” he said. “Probably within the hour.”

“That fast?” The man looked surprised, and a little relieved.

“You’ll be well compensated for your trouble,” Benji promised.

The man considered. “It was—well, I won’t lie—it was some trouble. But a man misses a bit of trouble from time to time.” He grinned. “And it was nice to know I had a bit of use left after all.” Benji smiled back. He imagined the man had enjoyed his clandestine role more than a little.

Ethan stirred, and Benji shifted his focus. Ethan’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hey,” Benji whispered. Ethan’s gray green eyes darted around, then finally focused on Benji’s.

“Benji?” Ethan whispered back. Ethan knew who he was, that was a start.

“I’m here. I found you.”

“Where’s here?”

Benji wasn’t sure how much to tell him. “You’re safe,” he said, instead. “Will’s coming to get us.”

“Will?” Ethan looked confused, and closed his eyes. For one terrifying moment, Benji was worried that it was all gone, that he wouldn’t be able to remember. But then, Ethan opened his eyes again, and they were sharper, clearer.

“Benji?” He said it again, like a question.

“Yes.” Benji responded.

“I love you.” He said it with a conviction that sent a shiver down Benji’s spine. And he didn’t care who saw him crying, but there were tears leaking out of his eyes as he bent over Ethan, cradling him as gently as he could.

“I love you, too, Ethan.”


	11. Heading home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They have Ethan back.

Benji held Ethan, feeling his heartbeat slow down for the first time in what felt like days. He felt the strain of the last two plus weeks permeate his body, the residual stress leaching through and making itself known in a kind of bone-deep weariness that only sleep, time, and maybe a good bottle of scotch would cure.

Ethan felt achingly familiar, but smaller, too, without his usual level of vitality. Benji’s relief at having found him alive and mostly well was tempered by his fear that he’d almost lost him, and it would have been because Ethan didn’t trust him enough to let him into the field where he belonged.

But that was an argument for another day. And Benji was profoundly grateful he’d get to have it at all.

A few minutes later his phone chirruped with a status update. Extraction in 22 minutes. Ethan roused at the noise.

“Can you walk?” Benji asked. He knew what the answer would be. Ethan could do anything.

He shifted to let Ethan experimentally swing his legs over the side of the narrow bed. He was wearing nothing but old flannel pajama pants that had no doubt once belonged to Old Jean. There was a neat white bandage over his bottom right ribcage where the bullet had gone in, and a matching one on the other side of his back where the bullet had come out again. His hair had grown out a little, and fell forward over his eyes as he took a moment to regain his equilibrium.

“Where are we?” Ethan asked.

Benji told him the name of the town, the region.

“Do you know how you got here?” It wasn’t really the time for questions, but sticking to the facts would help Benji get past the mixed up emotions swirling around in his chest.

They shuffled together, Benji’s arm around Ethan’s waist, being careful to avoid the bandages on either side of his body. They got to the top of the stairs before Ethan responded. “I escaped. From Sen.”

“And?”

“And I found a road. There was a truck…I climbed in the back. Hitched a ride here.” They took each step slowly, carefully. It must have hurt Ethan to breathe, because he kept his breaths shallow, his sentences short. “Staked out the bar. I marked the person most likely to have medical training. I was going to pass out…but I made it to his front steps. After that, it’s mostly a blur.”

“That was nine days ago.”

“Jesus.”

Benji wanted to apologize for taking so long to come for him, but he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he said. “The old man seems to have taken good care of you. We’ll get you sorted out in no time.”

Ethan didn’t respond. He had been winded by the descent to the lower floor. Benji checked his watch. He knew that Will and company would be choppering in, probably landing in a field or something outside of town, but they’d have to come up with a way to get Ethan there that wasn’t on foot. He settled Ethan on a battered wicker chair in the back garden, then went back inside. Jean was hovering by his dining room table.

“Thank you,” Benji said simply. “You saved his life.”

“You’re welcome.” Jean handed Benji a bundle. It was Ethan’s clothes, still caked in mud and blood. His shoes, dirty. There was nothing else. Sen must have stripped Ethan of whatever else he’d had on him when he’d been abducted. Benji handed the old man the envelope he’d taken from the inner pocket of his backpack and left before he started examining the wad of bills slipped inside.

From there, Benji acted on autopilot. Ethan didn’t try to talk, and Benji didn’t ask him any more questions. He heard the helicopter to the west, but didn’t see it. Will and a strong-looking man in a paramedic uniform, carrying a valise and a collapsible stretcher, appeared from that direction on foot 22 minutes on the dot since Will’s message. 

After a brief examination, Will and the paramedic bundled Ethan onto the stretcher and began carrying him, prone and still, toward the sound of the helicopter’s engine. It couldn’t have been more than two hundred yards. Benji held the rear, carrying Ethan’s bloody clothes under his arm, the backpack on his back. His gun carefully holstered. He didn’t look back at the little house or the little village. He kept his eyes steadily on Ethan, his too-white skin, his too-long hair. The rotors of the black unmarked helicopter started up the minute they came into sight of it. They were off the ground in less than two minutes.

Benji stayed out of the way while the paramedic and the doctor who was also on board assessed Ethan’s condition. He was relieved to see Luther flying the helicopter. He didn’t like being around so many unknown parties. But Will seemed to trust the doctor and medic and Benji relaxed a little. Will asked Benji how he’d found him and he relayed the story since the last time he’d checked in with Will. Since Sen had been captured and the original mission had turned into a rescue mission, once Benji had sent word of Ethan’s location, Jane had been reassigned and after Luther took them to the airport in Marseille, he’d been taking off, too. Will and Benji would accompany Ethan back to the States, back to IMF Headquarters. Where no doubt there would be a mile-high stack of paperwork related to this entire snafu.

By the time they arrived at the remote airfield on the outskirts of Marseille for their ride home, Benji had been thoroughly debriefed by Will.

“Good job, buddy,” Will had said, squeezing Benji’s shoulder. “You got him back for us.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for giving me the chance to. You didn’t give up, either.” Will had had his back, as well as Ethan’s, and Benji wouldn’t forget it.

The doctor cleared Ethan for air travel. Old Jean had done remarkably well with cleaning the wound, stitching it up, and keeping the infection risk low. They’d continue his antibiotics and keep him on bed rest for a couple of weeks and he’d make a full recovery.

The plane bound for home was small and comfortable. Ethan had been quiet the entire trip, and now he was sleeping as they headed west across the Atlantic. Will plopped down on the seat next to Benji after getting off the phone with Hunley to give him the latest report.

“Get some sleep, Benj. We’ve got hours before we get home. You’ve earned it.”

Benji was exhausted. He needed sleep. But he was afraid to take his eyes off Ethan, who was sleeping peacefully with the help of some doctor-prescribed pills. He was happy that Ethan was comfortable, that he was on the mend. It was all he’d been hoping for the past two weeks.

He was afraid that when Ethan woke up, when they got back to the security of the states, that nothing would be the same before Ethan had left him to go to work seventeen days ago. Ethan loved him, sure. But was that really enough? The fear of losing Ethan to a mad criminal bent on revenge had been replaced with the fear that their relationship, new as it was, tenuous as it was, wasn’t going to withstand the reality that was their job, that was their life. And he was going to lose Ethan anyway.

Against his will, Benji’s eyelids sagged. When he opened them again they were in D.C. He glanced around the empty plane. Apparently everyone had already gotten off. Including Ethan.


	12. Hunley's warning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji gets a talking-to.

The first black SUV had pulled away, headed for headquarters with Will and Ethan inside. Benji climbed into the back of the second, and if he was surprised to see Hunley waiting for him, he tried not to let to show on his face.

“Good work,” Hunley said shortly. “No casualties and Sen captured alive. We’ll just ignore the massive budget overruns you incurred looking for Ethan. Cost of doing business.”

Benji sensed there was a “but” coming.

“But…” 

Benji couldn’t help the small grin at the single word.

“Something funny to you, Mr. Dunn?” Hunley’s voice was harsh, but it held no heat.

“No, sir.”

“But you know this is never going to work. You and Ethan—if you persist in this…relationship of yours—working together is going to be a disaster.” Hunley sounded a touch embarrassed to be talking about their “relationship” at all, but Benji supposed this was supposed to be the less embarrassing way of dealing with it. Talking to Benji alone, getting him to see the light. Benji could connect the dots. He was supposed to be the calmer party. The one who would see what havoc being with Ethan would wreak on both their careers, on the agency. He was supposed to be the bigger man, walk away, save everyone a load of trouble. Maybe save his career, and Ethan’s, too.

Ethan might have been willing to walk away from Benji in order to save his life, but Benji wasn’t about to walk away from Ethan to save his bloody career. He was about to tell Hunley as much, when the older man went on. “But I can tell that being the stubborn bastard that you are, that you aren’t going to listen to reason on this.”

Benji lifted an eyebrow, waited.

“So we’ll try it. Who knows, maybe if I keep you two knuckleheads working together, we won’t have a repeat of this Sen debacle.”

Benji agreed that if Ethan hadn’t kept him out of the loop, then maybe it wouldn’t have gone down the same way. But he kept his mouth shut. Hunley could think it was all his brilliant idea. As long as he could continue working with Ethan, they could figure out the rest. Once he was done chewing him out for leaving him behind, of course.

They rode the rest of the way in silence. When the arrived at headquarters, Hunley opened the door and got out first. “Don’t make me regret this, Dunn.”

“Yes, sir.”


	13. Headquarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji and Ethan reconnect.

With the IMF tacitly on board with their personal entanglement, the rest of the team reassigned, and Ethan disappeared into Hunley’s office for what Benji assumed was a pro-forma debrief-slash-dressing down, Benji found himself at loose ends in the nearly-empty IMF headquarters. They’d arrived before dawn, and the overnight crew was readying to leave. Benji grabbed a computer, logged on and checked his various accounts for updates. Nothing urgent.

He was still exhausted, but he was too strung out to feel like resting, so he helped himself to the last cup of coffee in the pot on the tech floor. It was nothing more than bitter sludge, but it matched his mood.

He wandered around, cup in hand, until he found himself staring out one of the big picture windows with its view of the D.C. skyline, lightening perceptibly as the sun rose over the swamp. Activity picked up in the rooms behind him as the day crew trickled in.

He felt a presence at his elbow, and started when a warm, bare arm pressed itself against his flannel-clad one.

Ethan, dressed in a black t-shirt that hung off his frame and a pair of jeans from one of the dozens of identical pairs he probably had stashed here, held the subtle contact for a second, then shift slightly away, preserving space between their bodies. To a passer-by they were just two agents staring out at another D.C. sunrise after a long, trying mission. But Benji knew they were something else. They were two agents deciding what the future was going to look like. Two men deciding if their lives were going to go in the same direction, or diverge.

“Hey,” Ethan said.

“Hey.” Benji realized Ethan seemed…better. Less tired, less in pain. He was standing on his own, stiffly, but not in visible discomfort. “Whatever those doctors gave you, I want some.” 

Ethan cracked a smile. “If you’re lucky, I might share.”

“Oh yeah?” There must have been something in his voice, because Ethan lowered his and moved a tiny bit closer.

“And if I’m lucky, you’ll give me a chance. I know you’re pissed.”

“Do you really want to do this here?” Benji knew he was being difficult, but he didn’t feel like making it easy for Ethan.

Ethan sighed. “No, but—well. Here’s the thing. I have to stay off my feet for a couple weeks. Doctor’s orders. And, um--”

Benji didn’t think he’d ever heard Ethan say “um” before. He turned and looked at the older man fully. He looked better than he had in Italy, but his color was still gray. His hair a little too long. His cheeks a little too sunken. He’d probably barely eaten in two weeks. He needed bed rest for that goddamn bullet hole, but he also needed recuperating. Fattening up. TLC and R and R and all the rest. Benji was instantly furious with himself. He’d been so wrapped up in his feelings, that he hadn’t realized that Ethan Hunt, the man he loved, the man he’d do anything for, needed him, on the most basic of levels. He needed to be taken care of. And Benji was the man for the job.

“—um, I don’t actually have anywhere to—“

“Stop.” Benji cut him off. “You’re coming home with me. Right now.”


	14. Recuperating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benji helps Ethan recuperate.

Benji wrestled the last bag of groceries into his apartment and banged the door shut triumphantly behind him.

“I’m back!” Since he lived in a studio, he could see at a glance that Ethan wasn’t sleeping, as he’d been doing off and on in the day since they’d first arrived, but he was lying in bed, reading on his phone. “And we are officially stocked up.” 

He started unloading his haul of food, drink, and entertainment materials, including a few DVDs and a couple new video games. The various bottles of lube he stashed surreptitiously in the drawer that held the cling film and tin foil. He wanted to be prepared, but he didn’t want to rush Ethan. There was absolutely no rush. Benji’s priority was getting Ethan well. He wasn’t in a rush. Really. The fact that having Ethan in his bed reminded him of all the stuff they’d gotten up to the last time they’d shared an extended holiday in this apartment was neither here nor there. Ethan was recuperating. And Benji could control himself.

Still, his breath caught a little when Ethan set aside his phone and sat up, smiling. “Did you get it?”

“It?” Benji responded absently. He still couldn’t get over Ethan’s smiles sometimes, at how his one-in-a-million perfect combination of teeth and lips made him feel like he was the most important person on earth. That Ethan wanted him to be the one he smiled at. The one he kissed. The one he…okay, he was getting ahead of himself. Again.

“Yeah, did you get it?” Ethan leaned forward and licked his bottom lip.

Benji dragged his mind out of the gutter with effort and focused. “Did I get it—yeah, I got it.” Not lube. Not hard, though he was halfway there. He pulled a quart bottle of brown liquid out of a bag. “Right here.”

“Then let’s have some.” Ethan made a move to get up, but Benji stopped him.

“Stay there. I’ll bring it to you.”

“I’m not an invalid, Benj. I can walk.”

“So can I. Just stay put.”

“You’re the boss,” Ethan said, then settled back into his nest of pillows. 

Benji swallowed. He wondered how Ethan could make everything sound sexy, even when they were talking about something as mundane as chocolate milk. He poured him a tall glass of the sweet drink and stuck the rest in the fridge. He walked it over to Ethan, handing it to him carefully.

“I can’t believe that’s what you requested. You could have asked for anything and I would have gotten it for you.”

“And what I wanted was chocolate milk.” Ethan took a large swallow. Benji watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he drank. “It’s perfect.”

“G-good.” Benji let out a shaky breath. Jesus. He was going to be in for a long couple of weeks if he was this turned on by Ethan drinking chocolate-f-ing-milk.

“Aren’t you having any?”

“Maybe later.” Benji realized he’d just been standing next to the bed, watching Ethan like some kind of obsessed moron. Which he basically was. But still. “I’m going to get some lunch together. Grilled cheese okay?”

“My favorite.”

“Who would have thought Ethan Hunt had the appetite of a twelve-year-old?”

“Hey, I grew up in the Midwest. We have simple tastes.”

“Right.” Benji laughed and moved toward the kitchen.

“Wait—“ Ethan grabbed Benji’s arm to prevent him from leaving. “I forgot to thank you for the milk.”

“No problem—“ Benji said, or started to say, when Ethan tugged him closer and leaned up to press his lips against his.

Ethan tasted sweet and cold. Benji sank down to perch on the side of the bed so their faces were level. He let his tongue sweep over Ethan’s lips involuntarily, and Ethan immediately opened his mouth for Benji to lick inside. All of Benji’s pent up sexual frustration came exploding out as he deepened the kiss, moaning into Ethan’s mouth, and he would have stopped sooner, except Ethan’s response was just as heated. Still, before he could do something dumb like climb onto top of Ethan, who had a hole in him where a bullet has passed through not long before, he softened the kiss and pulled back. Ethan was gazing at him with his intense, hooded eyes. Their mouths were only an inch apart when Ethan whispered, “Thanks for the chocolate milk, Benji.”

Benji smiled softly. “You’re welcome, Ethan.”

“And Benji?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for everything else, too.”

Benji knew Ethan was covering a lot with that statement. Coming after him. Finding him. Giving him a place to stay. But Benji didn’t know how to tell him that no thanks were required. That he’d do all that again, and more, to keep Ethan safe, to keep him, period.

“Anytime.” His voice was as serious as he could make it. And Ethan seemed to understand, because he just nodded, once. And then Benji kissed him again, firmly but chastely, and stood up. “Now, you rest up, because as much as I want to see you on your feet again, I have purely selfish reasons for wanting you in fighting shape.”

“Oh yeah?” Ethan lifted an eyebrow suggestively.

“That’s the last time I carry ten bags of groceries up these three flights of stairs. You’re carrying your share next time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Benji grinned. “I like it when you do what I tell you.”

“You should tell me what to do more often.”

Benji was regretting this entire line of conversation. His cock had not gotten the message that Ethan was off-limits and that kiss had made him rock hard.

“Say that again to me in two weeks,” he said, walking with difficulty to the relative safety of the kitchen.

“Two weeks?” Ethan sounded shocked. “Is that the timeline you’re on? I was thinking more like two days.”

Benji laughed and got out the bread for their sandwiches. “You were shot. Let’s give it a minute.”

“I was shot in the side,” Ethan complained. “Everything else is in perfect working order.”

“Is that you, or the pain meds talking?”

“I’m barely on anything, and you know it.”

“Show-off.”

Ethan grinned. “Come back over here and let me prove it.”

“No. Because I know you would, because you are that stubborn. And I’m not going to be the one calling the doctor because you injured yourself doing---things. Can you imagine the conversation? I’m sorry, doctor, Ethan insisted on blowing me and he tore his stitches. Can you come here and patch him up?”

“We’ll be really careful,” Ethan swore.

“You have the attitude of a twelve-year-old, too. Now drink your chocolate milk like a good boy and give me a break.”

Ethan chuckled. “Fine. You win. But I’ll bet you fifty bucks that you break first.”

“No bet.”


	15. My heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan apologizes.

Exactly 48 hours later, they were finishing up another grilled cheese and soup lunch. They’d spent the preceding two days just…chilling. Playing video games, eating. Teasing each other, talking about nothing in particular. Definitely not talking about how Ethan ended up with a bullet wound in Europe while Benji had been left behind to tear his hair out with worry. Benji tried to tell himself that it didn’t matter. Yes, Ethan had made an important decision to leave Benji behind without giving him all the facts. Yes, it had infuriated Benji at the time and still galled him to think about. But he reminded himself that what mattered was that Ethan loved him, and that they were together, and they were intact. He had a lot to be grateful for.

And he’d been using so much of his willpower to keep his hands off Ethan except for the occasional lingering kiss or non-sexual massage that he didn’t have much energy left over for rehashing old grievances.

But Ethan, as ever, could read him. Maybe Benji wasn’t as over it as he wanted to be, because when Ethan started with a tentative, “Look, about the mission—” Benji had tensed up and walked into the kitchen, putting the bar between them, and started rummaging in a cupboard for something sweet.

“We have to talk about it,” Ethan persisted, following him, perching on one of the two bar stools. He was getting better quickly. He’d be starting physical therapy tomorrow. They’d probably be called into the office before the designated two weeks of recovery time were over.

“There’s not much to talk about. What’s done is done. We’re home and safe.” Ginger snaps. He’d prefer something chocolate, but these would do.

“But you’re still mad.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, you are. And you have every right to be.” Ethan sighed. “I screwed up.”

Benji took a moment to process that. He’d expected Ethan to defend himself. To say that he’d done what he had to do. Before he could respond, Ethan continued, “And I’m sorry.”

Benji drew on the anger that was still simmering beneath the surface. “What, exactly are you apologizing for? For leaving me out of the loop? For making decisions for me? For putting yourself in harm’s way when you know that losing you would—“ Benji took a steadying breath. “—would break me.” He wasn’t going to cry, and he forced himself to look Ethan in the eye.

Ethan’s voice when he spoke was heartbreakingly soft, and Benji was reminded all over again why he loved the man in front of him. “Losing me wouldn’t break you. You’re stronger than that. You’re stronger than I gave you credit for, back when Hunley first told me that Sen was out to get you. And yes. I’m apologizing for all of the above. I should have told you what was going on, I should have told you that Sen wanted revenge on you. I messed up, because I didn’t tell Will everything either. I thought I could handle it, neutralize the situation while you were safely over here. All I could think about was keeping you safe. I thought if Sen couldn’t get to you, that I could stop him before anything could happen to you.”

“You didn’t think that you getting yourself kidnapped and shot would bother me a tad bit?”

“Obviously, that wasn’t part of the plan.” Ethan grimaced. “And I know now that maybe it wouldn’t have happened—probably it wouldn’t have happened if I’d just told you what was going on and we stuck together, as a team, to face the threat together. I was selfish. I wanted to keep you safe. And I made the wrong call.”

Benji felt the anger drain out of him. Of course Ethan would be beating himself up for the how it all went down. He relaxed, and bit down on a ginger snap, the spicy sweetness coating his tongue as he thought.

“You did make the wrong call. You should have told me, and we should have figured out what to do together. Don’t you know that we’re better together?”

“I’m getting that picture, yeah,” Ethan responded with a quirked half-smile.

“But I do understand why you did it. Because I might have done the same. We’re letting our feelings for each other cloud our judgment. And that’s not good. Because we won’t be able to keep doing this if we screw up like that again. Hunley promised me as much.” The idea of not being able to keep working with Ethan left a hollow feeling in the pit of Benji’s stomach.

“So we learn from this and we do better next time. I’m not letting you go, Benji Dunn. Not as a partner. Not as a…” he trailed off.

“Ah, the dreaded labels discussion,” Benji drawled. “What are we? Boyfriends? Lovers? Non-platonic life partners?”

“You’re my heart,” Ethan said simply.

Benji’s chest flooded with warmth. He felt that damn prickle of tears again. He nodded. Sniffed. “And you’re mine, Ethan Hunt.”

“Then let’s take care of ourselves, while we’re taking care of each other.”

“Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost done with this tale! I'm sorry for the delay in posting these last chapters, but I'm definitely finishing the story. Look for one more chapter--basically a smutty epilogue. Thanks so much for reading!


	16. All the minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ethan's back in shape, and Benji wants to celebrate.

Seventeen days. It had been seventeen days since Benji had tracked Ethan to the old man’s house in the Alps. Seventeen days of physical recuperation, about a hundred rounds of Halo, eight grilled cheese sandwiches, a dozen glasses of chocolate milk, uncountable sweet, long kisses, and one over-due and emotional conversation. Ethan had weaned himself off the painkillers and thrown himself into physical therapy. They’d gone into the office and consulted on a few ongoing missions. And they whispered I love you to each other as they lay down to sleep side by side in Benji’s formerly lonely queen sized bed.

They were fully cohabitating, and even though Benji’s apartment was so small as to feel literally suffocating on days when they couldn’t escape somewhere for at least part of the day, Ethan never complained. He had a smile on his face every morning when Benji woke up, stubbly and a bit grumpy until he got his first cup of coffee. They drove together to headquarters, and acted as professionally as they knew how when they were at work. They didn’t declare to the wider world that they were together, but word had gotten around, and though most people didn’t say anything, they were the recipients of plenty of well-wishing smiles. Most people in the IMF knew enough of what they’d been through over the years that they were simply happy for them.

Work was good. Life was humming along. And they’d broken down and given each other desperate, if careful, blow jobs the night after Ethan’s first physical therapy appointment, at which he’d been given the okay for moderate exercise. They’d managed to satisfy their physical desire for one another regularly ever since, with hands and mouths, always mindful of the healing wound in Ethan’s side.

Now, though, his strength was almost back to normal, and Benji had plans. He’d called in some favors and had told headquarters they were taking some not-to-be-interrupted personal time. He left work first, and told Ethan he’d meet him back at the apartment later.

When Ethan walked in, the apartment was actually clean. The bed made, the dishes done. The lights were dim, and there was takeout sitting on the bar.

Benji fiddled with a bottle of wine, suddenly nervous. He wasn’t one for grand gestures. He glanced at Ethan. It almost hurt to look at him, with his face-splitting grin directed at Benji and his small offering.

“Is that from--?” Ethan nodded at the food.

“Jaleo,” Benji answered. “Our first date.”

“Once I could convince you it was an actual date.”

“Yeah, we already know I’m slow, thanks.” Benji smiled. 

“Well, what’s the occasion?” Ethan asked, moving closer, setting his keys down on the counter, and leaning into Benji, his hands slowly sliding up Benji’s sides.

“I just thought we should celebrate you getting back on your feet.” 

Ethan leaned closer, his abs pressing against Benji’s softer belly, his legs fitting between Benji’s. Benji set down the wine opener.

“On my feet.” Ethan repeated. His hands roamed over Benji’s t-shirt, feeling his sides, his arms, his back. He was relentless, soft, but firm.

Benji swallowed. He was supposed to be doing the seducing, but Ethan was obviously doing a superior job. His mouth was dry, his heart rate was up, his cock was thickening by the second as he breathed in Ethan’s scent. He wanted to bury his face in Ethan’s neck and just live there for a while.

“We should celebrate when we actually have a moment to ourselves. When we’re in one piece and not rushing off to save the world again,” Benji said. He loved saving the world with Ethan by his side, but he loved it more when it was just the two of them, the rest of the world be damned.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Ethan said, “so let’s celebrate,” and then he kissed him. They stood there in the kitchen, pressed together from chest to thigh, mouths joined as they kissed long and hard, the scent of garlic and lamb and a dozen other things wafting up at the them from the containers of food on the counter. Benji’s stomach let out a gurgle, and Ethan broke off the kiss.

“Shit. Excuse me…” Benji said. His face felt warm. Of course he’d be the one to ruin the mood.

Ethan smiled. “It’s okay, Benj. Let’s eat. We can pick up here later.” He started to move away, but Benji caught his arm.

“No. Later.” Benji pulled him back. “I need you more. I need you now.”

Ethan stared at him, reading the intensity on his face. “Okay.”

After that, they moved faster, kissing, moving toward the bed, removing articles of clothes, laughing a little when Ethan’s shirt sleeve got caught on his chunky wrist watch in their haste.

They were naked and hard and their skin was flushed when they got on the bed. They faced each other, kneeling. Benji stopped and traced the fresh pink line on Ethan’s side, only about an inch long. He’d have a scar. A scar to go with the dozen others he’d accumulated over the years. They didn’t lead easy lives. The scar was the reminder that all that stood between them and death was sometimes a second, a centimeter, a bit of luck. Benji’s love wouldn’t protect Ethan. But maybe it could save him.

As if reading his thoughts, Ethan said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Benji let out a sigh. He hoped it didn’t sound too much like a sob. “I won’t let you.”

“Good.”

Then they were kissing again, and Benji marveled anew at how someone as beautiful, as competent as Ethan Hunt could find him beautiful, could find him comforting, could find him desirable. But when he was with Ethan, he felt desired. He felt loved. He felt like what he gave Ethan was in equal measure to what Ethan gave him.

He could kiss Ethan forever, but he worried about Ethan’s side, about his stamina. He didn’t want to overdo it. He pushed Ethan down on the bed, his dark hair hitting the pillow. Ethan gazed up at him, his eyes open and trusting, his mouth, red from all the kissing, open in a soft smile. He looked…happy. Benji blinked.

“What are you thinking about?” Ethan asked.

“I was just thinking that you look happy.”

The soft grin deepened. “Benji, I’m happier right now than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“I love you so much,” Benji said. He was proud that the tears stayed out of his voice.

“I know,” Ethan said calmly. “Now come over here and fuck me.”

Benji’s cock stirred at Ethan’s words. “Actually, I was thinking maybe we could try it the other way around? If you’re up for it?” He glanced at Ethan’s cock as he spoke, which was rock hard. Ethan had always bottomed before, but Benji knew that they both switched and he thought it might be easier for Ethan to control his body if he was the one setting the pace, so to speak.

Ethan turned serious. “Are you sure?”

“I want to—if you do.”

“I told you before, I want everything with you.” Ethan licked his lips. “And that sounds incredible.”

Benji pulled the lube and condoms from the night table drawer. He lay down on the pillow next to Ethan. “Do you want me to—“ he gestured vaguely.

“Let me.” Ethan’s voice was rusty and Benji was starting to understand just how much he was turned on right now. Benji was excited, too, but it had been a while for him and even though he’d prepared ahead of time, he had a tiny twinge of nervousness. Ethan’s size gave him pause, for one thing, but he trusted Ethan. He would never hurt him.

Ethan sat up, coated his fingers with lube, and Benji let his legs fall open, exposing his hole. He thought Ethan was going to start touching him, but instead, Ethan leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, almost chastely. “I’m going to make this so good, baby.” Benji groaned. He loved it when Ethan called him that. It was always during sex, when their words and actions bypassed their joking around bullshit and they let themselves just feel.

Then Ethan was touching him, slowly, firmly, massaging into him, loosening him up, one finger at a time. It had been a long time, but Ethan knew what he was doing, and Benji felt electrified with need as the sensations starting at his core spread out, making his cock thick and heavy, leaking, needing friction. He didn’t touch himself. Ethan was the one in control.

Ethan was up to three fingers, and Benji moaned. “Oh yes, like that.”

“Like that, baby?” Ethan put pressure on his prostate, and Benji howled.

“Fuck, yes, Ethan, I need you.” Benji writhed on the bed. He needed more, he needed all of Ethan. Inside him.

Ethan kissed him, and slowly pulled out his fingers. He put on a condom, and spread more lube on. He was breathing hard, and Benji was worried about him for a minute. Something must have shown on his face, because Ethan said, “No, I’m good.” And then the tip of Ethan’s cock, blunt and thick, was at Benji’s entrance and Benji let out a string of curses as Ethan breached the hole for the first time. It was hot, hard, so impossibly thick. And then it was inside him, deeper and deeper until they were joined, Ethan fully seated inside him.

“Holy fuck.”

“Is this okay?” Ethan said, his brow furrowed. His face was flushed, his nipples standing out like diamonds. He was gorgeous. Benji thrust his hips, drawing Ethan even deeper, if that were possible.

“Fuck yes, it’s okay. Move!” And Ethan did, snapping his hips back and forth as Benji’s cock lay leaking between them. The pleasure spiked and spiraled and Benji watched Ethan bending over him, fucking him, making him feel so full, so loved. Benji felt like would explode with one touch, and he didn’t want it to be over yet.

“Stop!” he cried and Ethan instantly stilled.

“Jesus, Benji, did I hurt you? Are you—“

“No, sorry, I’m fine. I just—I don’t want to come yet. Your fucking enormous cock is fucking me and I don’t want it to end, okay?” Benji was not going to be embarrassed. Ethan leaned over and kissed him, wet and open and so sweet.

“Okay.”

“Here,” Benji had an idea. “Just, slide out for a second.” Ethan did, and Benji felt every inch as he slowly pulled his cock out of him. Benji sat up, and pushed Ethan down on the bed. He grabbed the lube, and dribbled some more on Ethan’s condom-covered cock for good measure. Then he straddled Ethan, kissed him, and then grabbed his cock and lined it up. “Okay?”

Ethan smiled and nodded as Benji started sliding down the shaft of his cock, taking him back inside him inch by inch. “You’re a genius.”

Benji avoided touching his own cock as he started moving up and down, but he could tell this was a better position for Ethan and his injury, because his face lost some of its tension. They moved in tandem, Ethan thrusting up as Benji jerked down, and Benji’s cock swelled and arched, seeking relief.

“You feel so good, baby,” Ethan said, his voice low and rough. “Fuck, you feel so—“ he tensed and thrust up, over and over again, and Benji felt the heat as Ethan emptied himself into the condom. “Fuck, I love you.”

It was those last words that pushed Benji over the edge. He spasmed, his cock spurting out thick streams of come as his orgasm hurtled through him. He’d come, untouched, with Ethan’s gorgeous cock inside him, his gorgeous face gazing up at him. “Ethan,” was all he could get out before he collapsed on top of him, feeling the sticky wetness that had sprayed all over Ethan’s chest and belly. “I love you,” he said, before forcing himself to pull up and off of Ethan’s body, releasing Ethan’s cock so he could remove and dispose of the condom before they settled back on the bed, out of breath and facing each other, covered in sweat and come.

“Jesus.” Ethan looked sated and bleary, almost drunk.

“Yeah,” Benji agreed.

“We’re definitely going to do that again sometime."

“Just give me a minute,” Benji said, deadpan.

“I’m going to need more than a minute.” Ethan grinned. “But maybe after we eat, I’ll be sufficiently recovered for round two.”

Benji laughed. He couldn’t help it. His life was surreally perfect.

“I love it when you laugh,” Ethan said, “even when I don’t know what you’re laughing about.” And Benji laughed some more. He was crazy in love with the man in his bed. The man who loved him, who needed him, who made him feel like he was home.

“I was just thinking how lucky I am,” Benji said, more seriously. “And I’m going to take you up on round two. Take all the minutes you need.”

“Can I have all the minutes?”

“Uh, sure, Ethan,” Benji didn’t quite know what he meant.

“Can I have all your minutes? All of our minutes? Can all of our minutes be together?”

“Is this some kind of new code, because I don’t know—”

“I want us to spend all our minutes together. Every minute we have on this earth. Not literally. We can’t be together every minute of the rest of our lives. But most of them, maybe?” Ethan looked hopeful and uncertain and serious and playful all at the same time.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying maybe we should make it official. Maybe we should commit our minutes to one another forever.”

“Stop talking about minutes. Are you seriously—are you talking about m—” Benji couldn’t quite make the word form in his mouth.

“Marriage.” Ethan did it for him. “Yes. I am. Benji, will you marry me?”

“Fuck.” Benji searching Ethan’s expression for the slightest hint that he was taking the piss. Ethan looked deadly serious, if maybe a bit vulnerable. He didn’t know what Benji was going to say.

Benji didn’t know what he was going to say either. He felt himself on the edge of panicking. They’d only been together a few weeks. They’d only just been reunited after Ethan’s near death and kidnapping. They’d only just—

And then a wave of calm washed over him. He knew Ethan. He knew how much he loved him. He knew he’d never love anybody else that much, ever. He knew that if there was one certainty in their lives, it was that there wasn’t any certainty about the time they would have left to be together. And he knew that however long that time might be—two months or two years or two decades—he wanted to spend it with Ethan.

“Ethan--” Benji took a long, deep breath and smiled at the love of his life. “I accept.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I may revisit this little universe sometime in the future. Ethan and Benji are just too adorable to leave alone for long. I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
